


Ian Hecox x Depressed!Reader: It's Safe Now

by KingOfHearts709



Series: Special [25]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Anthony Padilla - Freeform, Cutting, Depression, F/M, Ian Hecox - Freeform, It Sucks, its like you cant feel anything, reader - Freeform, smosh - Freeform, trigger warning, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your depression used to worry Ian, but now he's only doing his best to take care of you. What happens when a sudden outburst turns some tables?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ian Hecox x Depressed!Reader: It's Safe Now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not joking. For me, this is what depression was. Sometimes, it relapses from anywhere to a week to a couple months. It sucks. It's like you don't care about anything and you can't feel anything. There's no motivation.  
> Just a trigger warning, too. x

Depression sucked.  
Of course, you didn't care if it sucked. For you, it was just there. Just some stupid asshole that made you unemotional, unmotivated, and all around a person people would find to be no fun at all.  
For Ian Hecox, however, it was a different story.  
He knew you were depressed after a while of knowing you. You hardly smiled or laughed, you didn't cry or respond to pain, and most of all, you barely talked unless an order was being given to you.  
Ian tried to help, and God knows he's still trying.  
That brings you to now. You were sat in the living room of the Smosh house, temporarily living there after Ian convinced you to stay with Anthony and him. It was your home now, and your old, bare apartment was left behind, forgotten.  
Ian and you were playing MarioKart on the Wii, him as Luigi and you as Mario. He chose for you, considering you didn't really want to play in the first place. Ian passed in first place and you in last. You sat there, staring at the TV with a blank face as you discerned the game music into something you eventually looked too much into.  
"Good game," Ian told you. You nodded like a robot and sat still. "Another match?" You couldn't find the will to respond, so Ian just started another race.  
When this first happened, the things Ian would say to you ran along the lines of, "I wish you could cheer up," or, "Try having some fun." Nowadays, he simply told you little things like, "Good job."  
"You hungry?" he tried asking you. You took enough effort to shrug, as if you didn't care. "We can get Taco Bell or something, yeah?" You shrugged again. He turned off the Wii and stood. "Why don't you grab a coat and we can go, okay?" You nodded. Another order to follow. Standing, you walked to the kitchen and looked around for your jacket. It wasn't anywhere in sight, so you decided it didn't matter.  
"Ready?" Ian's voice came through. You sighed as he led you by the arm to the garage and into the car. Automatically, you put on your seatbelt. The car began moving and Ian's voice was talking, but you were too busy hating life at the moment.  
"Here," Ian said, handing you the meals he got. You took it and stared at the package like you had never seen one before. The drive home was still as silent as the drive before, but it didn't bother you.  
"Eat some, go on," Ian urged, nodding at the unwrapped taco in your hands at the table. You took a bite. It tasted like a taco, nothing more. Ian bit into his burrito ravenously, like he hadn't eaten all day. In truth, it was you that hadn't consumed anything but the tea that Anthony made and gave to you. You didn't know where he was now.  
"How's your taco?" Ian asked.  
"It tastes like a taco," you replied monotonously, a piece of cheese falling from your lips.  
"Yeah, but is it good?" You didn't know how to answer. How could you answer? It tasted like food, like a taco that someone made and gave to you because you paid for it.  
"It's fine," you decided on saying. Ian nodded. He really did know when to talk and when to shut it. Right now, it was best to just shut it.  
You finished your taco and found the motivation to throw away the garbage as you stood to toss it. As you threw it away, you saw a knife on the counter.  
You didn't touch it. You didn't move it. You simply stared at it. Jesus, you couldn't even find it in yourself to harm something. You already had scars on your legs, and you just didn't see the point anymore.  
You must've been standing there too long because Ian started leading you away to the couch again.  
"You okay?" he asked, sitting down with you.  
"Yes," came your quiet reply.  
"You weren't going to..."  
"No."  
"Well, that's good, I'm sure."  
"Sure." Silence wafted through the room like some kind of horrible torture. Sitting there now felt awkward. For once, it was like you didn't actually want to be there.  
"Why were you staring at the knife, (YN)?" Ian asked. You didn't have an answer. You shrugged. "The truth. Please. You know I'm trying to help, so please, just tell me what's wrong." You almost let it out. All those feelings almost bursted from your mouth like a machine gun, something you hadn't felt in months.  
“I don’t know,” you finally said, pushing down the urge to cry and scream into the depths of your mind. Ian sighed. Being who he was, he still wasn’t sure how to get through to you at all. All he could think to do was make sure you stayed breathing and communicated to some extent.  
“Okay,” Ian finally said.  
You almost felt hurt. Why did you feel hurt? Why, all of the sudden, feeling were coming back to you like some game of cards? Slowly, they were making their way back to the top until eventually they would win as depression slowly lost its cards.  
You weren’t very sure if that was a good idea.  
“It’s late,” Ian said. “Are you tired at all?” You had to think about it.  
“Yeah,” you said. Ian seemed to sit up at this, almost as if he were pleased with your response.  
“Okay, well, I’ll get the couch set up-”  
“No.” Ian stared at you. Not even in months had you opposed to anything.  
“W-What?” he asked.  
“I said no.” Ian still stared at you. You didn’t quite move, nor were you quite still. It was as if you were swaying back and forth in some kind of possessed state. A tear rolled down your cheek.  
“(YN), what-”  
“Just leave me alone!” you screamed. Ian stood up, speechless. Never had you yelled at him the way you just did. It was unlike you to even speak loudly, let alone scream outwardly. You stood up and looked Ian in the eye. You said nothing, but simply stared at his face, hurt and confused. It shone with shock, and you had to look away.  
You were tired of this.  
Slowly, you headed towards the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. You looked around desperately, looking for something, anything, to keep you sane. God, a wall to punch, a vase to break, something to let it out.  
“(YN)!” Ian’s voice stressed through the door as he pounded on the wood. “Open the door, please!” You covered your ears, closed your eyes and sank to the floor, crying, screaming in your head.  
Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop-  
“(YN).” The screaming ceased when the soft voice overpowered the noise. You didn’t open your eyes, didn’t remove your hands from your ears, simply let tears fall onto the floor and onto your jeans. You were being lead somewhere, into a different room. In your mind, you hoped it was Hell, it was where you belonged.  
Luckily for you, it wasn’t. Soft sheets surrounded your body as well as two pairs of arms, soothing you to put your hands down and put your face back into a proper position. You tried breathing, the first ones coming out with a shudder. The hands attached to the arms around you simply drew circles around parts of your body.  
“It’s okay,” the soft voice soothed. “It’s okay, I’ll keep you safe.”  
With that, you found it in you to reply.  
“Thank you, Ian.”


End file.
